The Grim's Return
by Ribelle
Summary: It wasn't just a veil. It wasn't just death. Come on, guys...Sirius Black doesn't fall over that easy.
1. Black Pit of Wonder

Disclaimer: Fine, fine, fine. J.K. Rowling owns everything. Happy?

**Chapter One: Black Pit of Wonder**

He _felt_ the second jet of light hit his chest, but he couldn't _believe_ it. Bellatrix hadn't bested him…she couldn't have. But it hurt so much. It must be real…must be…

The impact of the blow and the suddenness of it all made him stumble. Backwards he fell…slowly…slowly…and he knew it was all over…

He watched as everyone else stared back at him in horror. Dumbledore turned to the dais, shock reflected in his knowing eyes. Remus was still registering what had happened. The look on his face evolved from disbelief, to horror, to anguish, and finally, to resignation. At last, he let his eyes fall on Harry. The boy had forgotten all else in the moment. The prophecy, the Death Eaters, helping Neville…all that mattered was his godfather-who was now falling away into a veil of darkness and despair…literally.

The last thing he saw before slipping into the unknown blackness was the look of triumph on Bellatrix Lestrange's face. As he felt the back of his head touch the silky fabric of the veil, all he could hear was a woman's joyous scream and a boy's desperate cries of, "SIRIUS! SIRIUS!"…

Silence.

No, not silence.

There was something else…

…whispers…

But where were they coming from?

Sirius turned around sharply. Nothing was there. Or at least, he thought nothing was there. It was too dark to see anything. And yet…there was light. Light coming from somewhere…

He turned back around and found its source almost immediately. Why, there was the veil! He had only fallen through some kind of curtain. How hard could it be to get back?

He stretched out his hand, relief flooding through his mind, body, and soul. _He was alive._ He was going back. He was going to get to see that pair of magnificent green eyes once more.

He had only dimly registered how odd it was that he couldn't hear the sounds of the battle that was without a doubt raging just three feet beyond the thin cloth that he was mere inches from.

-Wait-

Sirius paused. If he was not mistaken, someone had just spoken to him.

-Wait-

Hesitantly, he withdrew his hand from the veil.

"What am I waiting for?"

-Wait-

Confused, Sirius tried again. "Wait for what?"

-Wait-

Sirius, after a moment's pause, sighed in exasperation. "I'd rather not, thanks," he said conversationally and stretched out his hand again to the mysterious veil.

-WAIT-

The voice was more insistent this time, and Sirius drew back immediately. He suddenly noticed how the whispers seemed to be getting louder, more distinct. The voice of a woman floated out of the darkness from his right while a child's cry emanated from his left. The bodiless voices seemed to be all around him, trapping him, enclosing him in this black pit of wonder. And then, suddenly, there was no more veil.

-Listen-

The voice rose above all the others, reaching into the deepest recesses of his mind. It was inside his head, reading his thoughts as though they were printed out, clear as day, on a bit of spare parchment…it knew him…

"What do you want from me?" he asked uncertainly. He wanted out. Out of this world he never should have entered in the first place. Out of this darkness. Out of this prison…

…but there was no way out…no, the veil was gone…

He was lost.

"I said, what do you want from me!" he yelled, growing desperate. Why wasn't it answering him? Why was it letting him drive himself mad? Had it left him? Where were the whispers? Had they left, too? Why was it so quiet? Bloody hell, not even Azkaban had been able to break him this easily.

_How do I get out?_

-Just listen-

Suddenly, the whispers were back. But this time, he could hear what they said. They were speaking to him, telling him things, things that Voldemort, Harry, even Dumbledore had never known.

Things that made Sirius want to just die.

On and on they whispered, although in the end, they hadn't told him much. Just enough. For even they didn't know all the secrets of the Time.

After an age of endless revealing, which seemed to bypass forever's boundary, the voices ceased.

Sirius didn't know what to do with himself. It wasn't real. It wasn't true. There was no way…_just let me die_…

-We don't lie-

Sirius barely heard. He was wallowing in his own thoughts, his own newly surfaced illness that threatened violently to overwhelm him if he didn't just give up. _I might as well,_ he thought, sinking to his knees. _What can I do to stop it? I can't get out. I can't help. I'm stuck here forever. Stuck here, knowing things I shouldn't. Things I'll have to live with everyday while suspended in this pitiful hole. Things that will just end up killing me in he end anyways. Why not just…let go?_

-No-

Sirius looked up. _What?_

-No-

_No what?_

-You will go-

_Go where?_

-Home-

_Home?_

-Home-

_But…but…_

-Help them-

_Help them…_

-Help him-

_Him? Harry?_

-Go-

_Home?_

-Now. Go-

_But…I don't have the strength…_

-You will. Go. Free them. Free him. Free us-

_You? Free you from what? You didn't tell me…_

-Go-

_But…I…_

-Go-

"I don't know how!" Sirius yelled, burying his face in his hands.

-Go…-

"I said, I—" he yelled again, dropping his hands to his lap. But he didn't finish. He couldn't. He was too shocked, too speechless. And besides, the voice wouldn't have been able to hear him anyway.

For he was no longer in a dark, empty void filled with hovering whispers. No.

He was in a neighborhood. A neighborhood where all the houses around him were broken and dirty and completely forsaken. It was the place he had grown up in, knew better that the back of his own hand…and despised just as much. Nothing had and would ever change that. Just like these houses would never be fixed again, neither would his heart.

Turning to the space between houses eleven and thirteen, he thought of words well-learned and memorized: _The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London._

And suddenly, there was the battered and beaten door of his childhood home.

**Aiight, thanks for reading! Review if you want. This is merely for you entertainment…:) **


	2. Bloody Tiger Figurines

Disclaimer: (sigh) … As much as I'd love to tell you all that I own the brilliance that is Harry Potter…well…I'm sure you see where I'm going with this.

**Chapter Two: Bloody Tiger Figurines**

Remus Lupin sat in the dim glow of candlelight, writing countless letters of all sorts to witches and wizards around the globe: informative letters, apologetic letters, letters filled with both good and bad news about the seemingly endless War, and more. He hadn't been officially appointed this tedious task, but no one else in the Order ever got around to it and it needed to be done.

He put down his quill, sat back, and rubbed his tired eyes. It was very early in the morning, almost 3:30am. Everyone else was asleep, lost in dreams of priceless peace that they couldn't get in the waking hours. _Well_, he thought, _with the exception of Harry._ Ever since his fifth year, Harry had been haunted and plagued by nightmares of unimaginable horror, locked in battle with the one man he had yet to defeat, fighting off creatures threatening to take away all that he lived for, and the sound of his mother's screams ringing in his ears.

All in all, Remus wondered how the kid kept his sanity.

Speaking of sanity, the ex-professor's own mind was in danger of losing it completely. The War had finally taken its toll on Remus and the results were that it affected his monthly changes into a rabid werewolf. Why? He did not know. But things were definitely different. And it wasn't for the better. It had gotten so bad that they had begun chaining and locking him up five days before each transformation, just for the security of everyone else living in or visiting headquarters. The potion he used to take to keep his human mind while in werewolf form was now useless. No one knew why it didn't work anymore. But the consequences had been disastrous the first time that it didn't take its affect on him. He had almost killed young Ginny Weasley, as well as Kingsley Shacklebolt and Sirius Black. They had managed to trap him in the kitchen, the very place he was now, and then waited for him to change back. He had completely trashed the place.

And he didn't remember a single thing.

He smiled slightly as he looked around the kitchen and recalled the look on Sirius's face when he had first told him of the frightening experience: a mix of confused fear and ashamed amusement. It had made Remus laugh. That was the summer before Harry's fifth year, before Harry had ever even been to headquarters. They hadn't told him about the whole incident because they didn't want to worry him…after all, he had been going through so much at the time, and his mind probably wouldn't have been able to carry for long the extra load. So, Remus had put it off and just made sure that he was no where around Harry when he transformed. No worries. He would tell him later.

But then, towards the end of Harry's school year, the battle in the Department of Mysteries had occurred…and with that came…Sirius's death.

Remus had decided then and there that he would tell Harry only after he'd had enough time to recover. He didn't need that just then. Although this had been a hard time for Lupin as well, having to deal with the fact that the last of the people who had loved him and accepted him his whole life, despite what he was, was gone, Harry must have gone through something far worse. Harry had lost the only true father figure he had ever known. And when it came down to Harry Potter, father figures were on short supply. Very short supply, indeed.

Remus leaned forward and signed, closing his eyes and thinking about his own feelings regarding the sensitive subject of Sirius and his passing. He had been such a good friend, like a brother. There were only two other people he had ever felt that way about: James Potter and Peter Pettigrew. In the end, Peter had betrayed them and joined the Dark Side, consequently killing James and his wife Lily, who was also like a sister to Remus. Now, Sirius was gone, too…although it had been seven years since that fateful day at the Department of Mysteries, it still felt so…so…surreal. Like he was still waiting for it all to sink in. He was the last of the Marauders.

The last.

The sound of the front door opening brought Remus out of his troubled thoughts. Who could be here at this hour of the night? The werewolf found himself not much caring.

CRASH! THUD!

Lupin's eyes shot open._ What in the name of Merlin…?_

Slowly, Remus stood up, pulling his wand out of his robe as he went, and started walking silently toward the kitchen door. Who was out there? Could it be Tonks? She was always doing stuff like that, knocking things over and falling down. But…she had come in hours ago…

He reached the door and pressed his ear up against it, waiting to see if the intruder did anything else. It had to be someone from the Order. No one else knew the way to get in. That much he was sure of. _Come on, Remus, just open the door and find out for yourself,_ he thought critically. _Quit giving yourself such a fright. It's probably nothing to get all worked up about…_

He opened the door. There was nothing down the hallway to his left. But when he looked to the right…a huddled mass of matted black hair and filthy rags was sitting against a bookcase, unmoving. The broken shards of a glass tiger figurine that had once occupied the bookcase's top shelf lay scattered around the man's (for Lupin now saw that it was indeed a man) feet. Holding his wand steadily before him, he approached the mysterious stranger. There was something oddly familiar about this wizard's appearance…yes…yes, he could see it now. He was reminded of Sirius Black. Black had always looked that way. Untidy and dirty, not much caring how he looked. That hadn't always been the case, of course. Sirius had once been a happy, healthy man. Quite good-looking, as well. The ladies had always loved "that heartthrob, Sirius Black."

But then, after James had died…

Remus shook the distracting thoughts from his head. It was pointless, thinking about that now. Sirius was gone, never coming back. What mattered now was this stranger. Not worrying about feelings and people long since dead.

_That's just the thing, Remus. I never was dead._

The voice resounded in Lupin's head, echoing around his mind. The werewolf froze in shock, still not quite sure what had happened. That had been Sirius's voice.

_Sirius._

The wand dropped from Remus's hand, clattering against the stone floor.

It _couldn't_ be.

There was just no possible way. He refused to believe it. And yet…

Lupin edged forward slowly, carefully, not quite sure what he would do if the seemingly impossible turned out to be truth. If it really was…_bloody hell_…

As he neared the huddled form, tears started to pour, not outwardly, but in his heart. Everything was the same. It was Sirius Black, just as Remus had seen him last. Nothing had changed.

Except…

The man's head turned, very slowly, as though pained from the effort. And as he did, Remus caught glimpses of features he had thought never to see again. And then, their eyes locked, Sirius's age-old and black, dark and sunken. Eyes that had seen. Eyes that _knew_…

_Oh, gods._

Sirius tried a feeble smile, but gave up after failing twice. Finally, he spoke.

"Hullo, Moony."

Lupin didn't even care that his knees had just buckled beneath him, causing him to hit the floor hard. He didn't acknowledge the pain that racked both his legs at the moment of impact. All he knew was that his heart was about to burst.

And then it did.

The rest of Remus's body fell to the stony ground. And he let it all go. He felt himself drowning in a river of tears as a rough, but gentle hand clasped his.

And soon, all had faded to black.

* * *

Sirius hadn't meant for it to happen that way.

He hadn't meant to frighten anyone…especially not Remus. He had accidentally bumped against the bookcase (one that hadn't been there while he'd been living there) and knocked over a glass tiger that had been placed on top of it. He'd then tripped (over what, he didn't know) and fallen against the bloody thing, only to have Remus come out and faint at the sight of him.

This was gonna be hard.

The moment he'd fallen, he had expected to hear his mother's screams come from a little ways down the hall where a portrait, covered by black, grimy curtains, should have been. But the Order had obviously managed to undo the Permanent Sticking Charm Mrs. Black had placed on it and had gotten rid of it in the time he'd been gone. And he had been gone quite some time. _Seven years_, the whispers had told him.

Seven years.

Now, he sat before his friend, dabbing his face with a cloth wet from the kitchen sink, and waiting for him to wake up. He was surprised that the whole ordeal hadn't awoken everyone else in the house. Mrs. Weasley had ears like a hawk and never failed to miss the faint sound of footsteps padding to the kitchen for a midnight snack. And Harry…Harry had a sixth sense about these kinds of things. Sirius was still half-expecting him to come bursting through the door, wanting to know what was going on, and then keeling over in shock himself. But that had not happened. And besides, the thought of Harry wasn't much appealing to Sirius at the moment. Although he wanted to see the boy desperately and acknowledge the man he had no doubt become, he was afraid that he would not know how to deal with him once it finally sunk in that his dead godfather was no longer dead.

And just as these thoughts flew through his head, a familiar voice broke the apprehensive silence.

"Professor? Oh, God, what—"

Sirius turned his head slowly and locked eyes with a pair of dazed and astonished green ones. Although he knew it wasn't the time, Sirius decided to start the first conversation they'd had in seven long years with a little jest.

"You still call him Professor, eh?"

And Harry, to Sirius's utter surprise, simply turned and walked out the door.

**Why in the hell would Harry do that? Oh, well, I guess you'll just have to wait for the next chapter. Don't you love me:)**


	3. Seeing Things

Disclaimer: I don't own it! None of it! Ahhhhhhh!

**Hello all! Thanks to those who reviewed. I'm so very happy you guys like my story! I'm not sure how much I liked the last chapter. It didn't exactly turn out the way I'd planned. Oh, well…what really matters in the end is that all you guys like it, right? Well…I'll stop rambling now. Hope you enjoy!**

**Ribelle**

**Chapter Three: Seeing Things**

_Merlin's staff, _Harry thought as he trudged sleepily back up the stairs. _Now I'm seeing things?_

He laughed softly as he reminded himself that this hadn't been the first time Sirius had decided to live again through one of his daydreams. Oh, yes, there had been many incidents when Harry had actually believed his beloved godfather had returned to him. And every single one of those incidents had ended in tears once Harry had realized what would have been obvious to anyone else.

_Ah, well. This is what I get for not letting him go. At least I didn't fall for it this time._

He reached the top of the stairs and made his way down the deserted hall to his bedroom door. Before he could push it open, however, a floorboard creaked behind him and he whirled around, almost tripping over himself in the process. Placing a hand on the wall for support, he squinted through the darkness, trying to see who it was that had snuck up on him. Could it be Professor Lupin, perhaps? Harry was sure that the unconscious Remus in the kitchen had been an illusion as well, but the werewolf still hadn't gone to bed yet. Or maybe it was another member of the Order, coming into headquarters early. These thoughts passed quick as a flash through Harry's mind and all the while, he grumbled and muttered under his breath, cursing himself for not having been awake enough to have the sense to grab his glasses.

The figure moved from the head of the stairway towards Harry very slowly, as though not wanting to frighten him away. Quite puzzled and not thinking clearly, Harry blurted out, rather loudly, "Who's there?"

The figure stopped, and Harry saw the dim outline of a hand reach up and scratch the back of a head bearing black, shaggy tresses. He blinked rapidly, trying to see through the sleepy bleariness and near blindness. Then, with a jolt, Harry realized who it was that stood before him.

"Sirius?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly. _Not again…_

But, unlike all the other dreams before, Sirius Black spoke back. "I'm real, Harry. I'm here. And I won't leave you. Never again."

Harry's mind went blank. What? What was this man saying? What was he playing at? No…no…Sirius was dead. Gone. Through the veil. Never coming back. Harry had _seen_ it. He'd been there. He'd_ seen _him fall…

"I'm sorry, I don't quite understand," he replied, his voice steady once more. "Who are you?"

The man pretending to be Sirius took a step forward. "Harry, please. Listen to me. It's _me. Me._ Sirius. Sirius Black." There was a pause and then the man added softly, "Snuffles."

Harry's head cocked to one side involuntarily. Snuffles…Sirius's old code name…damn, only Sirius would know that…but…this was just a dream…he wasn't real…

Suddenly, Harry's head began to spin, and his calm, dream-like state changed abruptly to anger.

"No. No, you don't understand. Sirius is dead. _Snuffles_ is dead. And I don't know who you think you are, but you most definitely are not him!" What had started out as a menacing growl turned quickly to a loud yell. Two doors flew open on his right, as well as one on his left. Out of each appeared Ron Weasley, Charlie Weasley, and Tonks. All of them wore tired faces and grim expressions, but they also appeared alert and expectant, eyes searching for any sign of trouble.

"Lumos," Harry heard Charlie mutter and light filled the hallway.

"Blimey, Harry, what's going on out here?" asked Ron, suppressing a yawn.

"Yeah," said Tonks, rubbing her eyes. "Sounded like you…were…" Her voice trailed off as her eyes found the Sirius imposter, barely visible in the remaining shadow. Ron and Charlie followed her gaze.

"Is that—?" Charlie asked. Tonks gasped.

"No," Ron said quietly, more to himself than anyone else. "It can't be…"

The man merely nodded his head. "It can be. It's really me. It's really—"

"No!" Harry found himself shouting as his anger bubbled dangerously. "Don't you dare! Don't you dare tell them you're Sirius! You're not him! I won't—I can't…I…" Harry couldn't continue. Breathing was becoming hard enough…yelling wouldn't do any good. But he wanted to yell so bad, scream out all his pent up frustration at this liar, this…this impersonator. Didn't he understand? Didn't he see…? "You're not real," he finished softly, averting his eyes from the rest of them.

"Oh…no, he's real alright, Harry," Charlie answered, sounding awestruck. "Unless we're all having the same bizarre dream…"

Charlie had a point. If it really was an illusion or dream, than how could the other three see him as well? Harry looked up at Ron and saw him leaning against the wall, eyes wide, face white. Tonks looked as though she was about to be sick. Charlie merely looked amazed. Harry finally let his eyes flicker up to the face he had longed to see for over seven years. The dark eyes looked back, apprehensive, hopeful, happy, sad, everything at once.

And it was then that Harry knew.

"Oh, gods," he whispered, sinking to his knees. "Oh, gods. Oh, gods. Oh, gods…no, no, no…no…"

He buried his face in his hands, trying to stop the flow of tears, but they just kept on coming. Someone was kneeling next to him, holding him. Someone he couldn't believe was really there. Someone who _was_ really there and who had promised never to leave him again.

"Sirius!" he cried, clinging to his godfather for dear life. How had this happened? How was he here? Harry couldn't get his head around it. But none of that mattered at the moment. All there was was him and Sirius…no one else.

Harry gradually became aware that others had filed into the hallway. He could hear sobs of joy, cries of wonderment, murmurs of disbelief, and shouts of praise. But Sirius never left his side. He held him right there in the middle of the floor, not once suggesting they move or take their leave. And Harry loved him all the more for it.

After what seemed like hours of sitting, crying, and hugging, Harry finally broke the silence.

"I missed—" he started, then paused as his voice cracked. "I missed you…so much."

"Oh, Harry," answered Sirius, and Harry realized that he'd been crying as well. "I love you. You know that, don't you? I'm so sorry. So sorry for ever leaving you. What kind of godfather am I that I would do that to you?"

"No. You're the _best_ godfather. It wasn't your fault. If anyone's to blame, it's me. I should never have fallen for the trap. I should've been there, fighting off Bellatrix with you. I should've listened to Hermione. I should've—" But Sirius cut him off.

"No, Harry," he said, lifting Harry's head so that he could look him in the eyes. "I never want to hear you speak that way again. You followed your heart. No one can ask for more than that. As for Bellatrix…I heard you got your revenge…is that true?"

Harry looked back at him, confused. How did Sirius know that? "Yeah…yeah, that's true…in seventh year…who told you that?"

Sirius quickly looked away, then smirked. "Let's just say a little bird…erm…_whispered_ some things to me."

Harry just shook his head, ignoring the fresh batch of tears that came with his sudden surge of happiness. And before he knew it, sleep had overtaken him, still in the arms of his alive and well godfather, Sirius Black.

* * *

"Mum! Mum, what's going on? Dad's just contacted us from the Ministry. Said something big had happened. We could barely understand him, he was talking so fast."

"Fred! George! Good, you're here. Well, dears, let me tell you…_big_ is the understatement of the year. Now, I don't want you to go upstairs quite yet. Harry's still up there with him. But—"

"Up there with who, Molly?"

"Alastor! Good heavens, everyone's arriving. It'll only be a matter of time before Dumbledore gets here. He'll know what to—"

"Mrs. Weasley? What on earth is going on? Tonks sent an owl…I only just received it. She said I need to come straight away."

"Hermione, dear! Oh, my. Oh, my. Yes, well something quite extraordinary has happened. It really is—"

Remus groaned and rolled over, irritated with these annoying voices for not shutting up. Then the room fell silent and he opened his eyes.

He was back in the kitchen, lying on the long dining table. Fred and George Weasley, Alastor Moody, and Hermione Granger all stood around a flustered-looking Molly Weasley. Her face was red, her hair more frizzled than ever, and she was still dressed in a nightgown, bathrobe, and tattered slippers.

Wondering what was wrong, he sat up slowly and swung his legs over the table. _Holy Grail…what a headache!_ It was when he stood up that he remembered all that had occurred out in the hallway. The memories hit him so fast and hard that, once again, his legs would not support him and he tumbled to the ground. Hermione ran to his side, catching his head before it could hit the floor as the twins grabbed each of his arms and pulled him upright.

"Where is he?" he muttered once he stood on his own two feet. "Where's he gone?" Mrs. Weasley sighed and, taking the wet cloth Sirius had used off of the table, began dabbing Remus's head lightly.

"Like I've just said, he's upstairs with Harry. I do say they need some time alone. Arthur went straight to the Ministry as soon as he saw them sitting there in the middle of the floor. Put him in a right state, it did. Put all of us in a right state. Especially you, dear," she added, nodding her head at Lupin. "You really look a fright."

"I'll be fine," he said, pushing her hand away from his head. "I just don't understand what is going on."

"And neither do we," growled Alastor, while Hermione and the twins nodded fiercely in agreement. "For the last time, Molly. _Who_ is upstairs with Harry?"

Mrs. Weasley was silent for a moment, as though she was afraid to actually say the man's name. When she finally did speak, it was soft and quiet, almost near a whisper. "It's Sirius," she answered. "Sirius Black."

Silence followed her words.

**Okay, I hope you guys like that. I don't know what I think about it. But of course, I am the author. And the author is always the author's worst critic. ;) Anyways, I think it'll do. Thanks for reading! **

**Ribelle**


	4. Forgetting to Breathe

Disclaimer: There are loads of things in my possession, but is Harry Potter one of them? I think not. (sigh). Oh, well. On with the show!

**Chapter Four: Forgetting to Breathe**

Sirius felt as though a huge weight had been lifted off of his shoulders.

Harry believed him. He really _believed_ him. He'd been so afraid that Harry wouldn't be able to come to terms with the fact that he was back. People didn't just come back from the dead, powerful magic involved or not. The realization that Harry had allowed himself to accept what had happened still had not hit Sirius completely. But it didn't matter. It was enough to know that it would sink in later…and he was content to leave it at that.

Now, all he wanted to do was sit and watch as his godson slept away in the bed next to his chair. He'd been surprised at how easy it had been to carry him through one of the bedrooms (the one he'd assumed was Harry's) to lay him down so he could sleep comfortably. It was almost as though the boy weighed nothing at all.

Sirius shook his head. No, not boy. Man. Harry had grown up, he reminded himself. He was now…what was it…twenty-two? Yes, twenty-two, that'd be about right. He'd really grown up. But Harry had always seemed older than his age. After what he'd been through with the Dursleys, Snape, all of the dangerous adventures, and most of all, Voldemort, the Potter boy had had no choice but to step up. And that he'd done. Indeed, he'd done it very, very well.

With a yawn, Sirius stood up and stretched, never taking his eyes off of Harry. _Well, one thing's for sure, _he thought proudly. _He looks more like James than ever._ This was one of the first things he had noticed when Harry had snuck up on him in the kitchen. The face, the hair, the voice, even the build was exactly how James had been. All except the eyes, of course, which everyone knew were Lily's. But that was okay. Because that small bit of physical appearance that she'd given him was the one bit that had the most effect on everyone Harry came in contact with. They were probably the most beautiful green eyes you were bound to ever see.

Sirius smiled as he remembered a bet that he and James had had going about whose eyes were greener: Lily's or Harry's. Sirius had chosen Lily, while James had picked Harry. In the end, Sirius had won, causing James to complain that it wasn't fair. "It's only because he's got a little hazel in there somewhere from me!"

Sirius's smile grew as he glanced over at his godson, but it quickly faded in his shock that Harry was staring back at him. Not knowing just what to say or do, he merely stuffed his hands in his pockets and sat back down. The look on Harry's face as he looked up at Sirius was priceless. All his emotions could be seen there, though Sirius couldn't pick out exactly what each one was. Confusion was definitely among them. Disbelief. Very much awestruck. And…love. Loads of it. Confused, disbelieving, awestruck L-O-V-E. And as Sirius looked back at those evergreen orbs, he was positive that James should've won that bet.

"So," he said, breaking off the staring competition and studying his hand. "Did you sleep well?"

Harry didn't answer. Sirius could feel Harry watching him, taking in everything. He wasn't even sure the boy had heard him speak.

"Erm…Harry?" he asked, looking up again. Harry's eyes were dazed and out of focus. But this time, it was obvious he'd heard.

"I'm fine," he answered, his voice quiet and distant. "I just…do you know where my glasses are?" This question surprised Sirius. He hadn't even realized Harry hadn't been wearing them.

"Uh…I…well, erm…let me—let me take a look around…see if I can…" Sirius let his words trail off. _Just quit your mumbling and find his glasses,_ he thought and stood up again. After rummaging around the room a bit, he took Harry's glasses off of a corner table and handed them to their owner. Harry took them with a trembling hand and placed them on his face. There was silence for a full five minutes before anyone spoke.

"What happened, Sirius?" Harry asked, closing his eyes emotionally. "What—why are you here?"

Sirius, after a moment's hesitation, sighed and took a seat at the edge of the bed. What _had _happened? Why _was_ he here? Those whispers…they had told him. They had told him what he was to do. And yet…he still didn't understand. None of it was clear…

"Honestly, Harry," he answered, surprised at how weak he sounded. "I'm not exactly sure. That veil…it was never what we had thought…it was never death…it was…it was…" He couldn't find the words. It was an indescribable place. A place that he wasn't even sure belonged in the wizarding world. It was such a secret. Such a vast, dark, mind-blowing secret. And he hated how it invaded his every thought. It just wouldn't go away.

"It was the truth," he finished softly, remembering unwilling all that had occurred there.

Harry's eyes opened, seeking out Sirius's. "Truth?" he asked bewildered. "What do you—"

Footsteps pounded up the stairs and down the hallway, interrupting the solemn moment. The door flew open and in came Fred and George, quickly followed by Mad Eye Moody. All three of them stopped once they saw Sirius, eyes widening and jaws dropping.

"Fred! George!" came Mrs. Weasley's voice from the stairway. "Stop right this instant! I told you he's—" She stopped right behind them, glaring furiously, her hands on her hips. "Really!" Just running off like that! Hermione bursting into tears downstairs, the poor dear, and all you three can think to do is…is…Oh, my." Her face paled and her voice faded to a whisper as she caught sight of Sirius. It was obvious she was still in shock herself…although it was nothing compared to the three standing in front of her.

"B-b-blood-bl-buh," Fred stammered, eyes blinking furiously.

"Bloody hell," Moody finished for him. The auror's magical eye went in and out of focus, pupils dilating over and over, as he struggled to comprehend who it was in front of him.

George said nothing. He just stood there, back rigid, staring blankly. It was then that Sirius noticed he was turning purple.

"George?"

Moody's bulging eye swiveled around to the Weasley twin. Huffing in exasperation, Alastor thumped him hard on the back, causing him to let out a long-held breath.

"Breathe, man!" Moody bellowed, snapping his gaze back to Sirius as George gulped in the air he had forgotten to take. "We still don't know if it's really him yet."

Sirius started. What? What did he mean? Of course it was him. Who else could it be?

It was Harry that spoke. "Moody, this isn't a trick," he said from his place on the bed, sounding exhausted. "There's no imposter, no deceit…it's really him. Really…really him."

Sirius felt a surge of gratitude and pride toward Harry at that moment. But he chose to ignore it. Something was wrong with him. Granted, he was still in shock over everything that had happened. Who wouldn't be? But there was something else…something deeper…and it worried Sirius.

"Polyjuice Potion, Harry," Moody growled, both eyes narrowing. "Polyjuice Potion. It's still a possibility. Anyone can do it. I suppose you remember what happened to me, once upon a time? Quite believable, wasn't he? Crouch scum…who says it couldn't happen again?"

Harry shook his head. "No, Mad Eye. You need a part of the person you're trying to become to create Polyjuice Potion. Like a hair or a drop of blood. Where could anyone have gotten that type of thing from Sirius?"

Moody was silent for a few moments, considering Harry's words. Finally, he said, still looking uncertain, "Alright, you've got a point…but I still want him to take some Veritaserum, just in case."

Sirius sighed and looked down. He should've expected nothing less.

"I don't think that will be necessary, Alastor," said a familiar voice from the hallway.

Sirius looked up. Harry craned his neck. The other four turned around.

"Good morning," said Albus Dumbledore softly, his grim expression keeping the usual twinkle from his eyes.

* * *

Hermione walked shakily to the table and seated herself, listening as her companions' footsteps rumbled up the stairway. She wiped away unwanted tears, but it didn't matter. She couldn't even really feel them.

Sirius was back? Sirius was back. Sirius was back. She said it over and over again in her mind, but it still hadn't clicked. Sirius was back.

Sirius was back.

She could feel Remus's eyes on her the whole time she was trying to understand. She knew he wanted to comfort her, to help her realize…and she knew just as well that he wouldn't be able to. There was only one person in the world she wanted to be with right at that moment…and he was the one person who had come to despise her the most.

She shut her eyes tight and tried not to think of that person's red hair and bright freckles. But no matter what she did, his name rang through her head loud and clear as a bell.

_Ron…I need you…_

**You like? I like. I think it's okay. Okay? Okay. Well…let me know what you think? I'll try to make the chapters longer, but it's been kinda hard with all the stuff going on in my life right now. But I'll work on it.**

**Till then...**

**Luv,**

**Ribelle**


	5. Within Our Very Own

Disclaimer: What? Huh? Do I own Harry Potter? Yeah, sure…(shifts nervously & walks away )…

**Hey guys. I'm glad you like the story so far. Keep reading & keep letting me know what you think. I never knew how addicting those reviews could be…;) For those who asked about Ron & Hermione, all will be explained. So don't worry. You haven't missed anything. Well, anyways, hope you enjoy! **

**_Oh yeah…hey Kidd…aiight, aiight, I won't make you flame me…here's another chapter…dedicated to you! Love you, girl. See ya! Always, _**

_**Bubba…**_

**Chapter Five: Within Our Very Own **

Sirius stood up immediately, an urgent feeling rising in his chest. He couldn't waste anymore time. Dumbledore needed to know. He _had_ to know. Now.

"Dumbledore, I need to speak with you," he said hastily, ignoring Harry as he pushed off the covers and stood eagerly next to Sirius. "It can't wait any longer. There's so much—"

"I'm well aware of the need for a private discussion, Sirius," Dumbledore said, his face cast downward. Sirius was surprised at the sound of slight hostility in his voice. He didn't know whether that was from mere shock or something else. "Which is why," Dumbledore continued, "I need all of you to leave the room immediately. Molly, if you'd very kindly lead the way, please."

Mrs. Weasley stood for a moment, as though she wasn't quite sure how to respond. Then, she turned abruptly on her heal and started down the hallway, calling with a shaky voice, "Fred! Down here now! You too, George! They need to be alone!" After much fumbling and failed attempts at walking on trembling legs, the twins finally made their way out of the room and followed their mother. Moody didn't move, both eyes focused on Dumbledore.

"You, too, Alastor," Dumbledore said as he took a seat in the chair Sirius had been sitting on. "This conversation is for me and Sirius alone."

"And me," Harry said quietly. At some point after he had stood, he had grabbed Sirius's arm and Sirius now felt the strength in those hands as they struggled to keep Harry upright.

"No, Harry," Dumbledore whispered. "Both you and Alastor are to go downstairs. We will be with you shortly."

"I insist on hearing what needs to be said, Albus," growled Moody roughly. "I won't be left out of anything. This is serious business and I want to be present."

"No," said Dumbledore, his voice growing firmer. "Take Harry downstairs. You will both be informed once we have figured everything—"

"Professor," Harry said louder, cutting him off. Sirius could tell he was fighting to keep his temper. "Do not ask me to leave Sirius for even one moment. Do not even think it. Not now. Not now…"

Sirius saw the Headmaster's eyes close in sympathy and knew that he was not going to give in.

"I'm sorry, Harry."

The room was silent for a long while. No one moved. Finally, Harry stepped in front of Sirius and looked him in the eyes. "I need to know what happened to you," he said, his gaze fierce. "Let me stay."

Sirius couldn't say anything. Dumbledore had made his decision clear. Besides, he wasn't even sure Harry should know everything that had happened to him quite yet…the boy was obviously still recovering over his sudden return to life.

"Harry," Dumbledore spoke again. "It is time for you to go. I will tell you everything as soon as possible. I need to know first."

"It should come from you," Harry said, his eyes still fixed on Sirius. "You know that. No one else should tell me but you. Please, Sirius…don't make me leave you."

All at once, Sirius did something he had mastered growing up as a child in Grimmauld Place. He closed himself off. Blocked out his emotions. Let all of his feelings fade away…

"Go, Harry. I'll be down soon."

Harry's gaze wavered. Then all of the sudden, he was gone. Moody grunted, glared at them both with his big, glassy eye, and disappeared out the door after him.

"Straight to the point, Sirius," Dumbledore began immediately, leaning forward in his chair. "What happened behind the veil?"

Sirius walked slowly over to the bed and took a seat once more. He still wasn't sure he quite believed what he was about to tell the Headmaster. It was so unreal. So…so…

"We're all going to die," he whispered and buried his head in his hands.

Dumbledore was probably thinking through his words, Sirius knew, but at that moment, he didn't care. It was the disturbingly real weight of what he'd just said that made him want to run. Run and hide. To go anywhere, anywhere but here. What could they do to stop what was coming? What could they do? What could _he_ do?

"We're all going to die," Dumbledore repeated, clasping his hands and bowing his head. "Who told you that, Mr. Black?"

"The whispers," he said without hesitating. This had to be done. And it had to be done quickly.

"Whispers? Hmmm….and did they tell you why we are all going to die?"

"Yes."

"I see…well. Do share, Mr. Black."

Sirius looked at him. He seemed to be taking this so lightly. How could he be in such a mood when what he was about to say would change everything?

He decided it didn't matter. And he began his story.

* * *

"For God's sake, Remus, would you sit down? Keep pacing like that, and I'll hurt you, I promise!"

Lupin ignored him. Nothing Ron could say would make him be still. It just wasn't possible on a night like this.

"Why don't you go find your girlfriend?" Remus snapped suddenly, feeling extremely irritated. Why had he let Ron in for company after Hermione had left? Why?

Ron glowered and went red. Remus knew he'd hit a nerve.

"Don't talk to me about her, Professor. Just don't."

"No, Ron. You _need_ to talk about her. Nobody but you blames her for what happened. How can you think it was all her fault? How?" Remus knew he was fishing for reasons to keep his mind off of Sirius. But he had hardly chosen the best subject.

"Because it WAS her fault," Ron said defensively. "D'you really think that that Death Eater would be on the loose right now if she had done her job? Do you? Tha's why he's dead, Lupin! That is why!"

Remus stopped pacing and shook his head, thinking back on the history of this story. Hermione, an auror/Hogwarts professor, had been captured by a Death Eater about three years earlier. She had been able to get away and when the time came for her to kill him off, she didn't. She let him live, thinking that she'd just be able to take him to Azkaban to be imprisoned. She hadn't thought he was strong enough to apparate after what she'd done to him. How wrong she was. In the end, Bill Weasley, Ron's brother, had had an encounter with the same Death Eater and had been killed. Now, Ron blamed Hermione for his brother's death.

"If she'd only finished him off, Professor," Ron said, dropping his voice to a whisper. "If she'd only done her job…"

"But that's not her job, Ron. Her job as an auror, as well as yours, is to protect from dark wizards, is that not true? You know Hermione. She couldn't have just killed him even if her whole heart had been set on it. I'm not sure you could've done that either. Trust me, son. It won't seem as easy to do when you're actually faced with the situation."

Ron didn't seem to hear a word. "Bill's dead. Why is he dead? Because of Hermione. Because of Hermione."

"Ron! Have you not heard a word I've been trying to tell you for the past three years? We all miss Bill. Of course we do. But how could Hermione have known what was going to occur? She couldn't have. She had the best intentions in the world. And—"

"I don't care," Ron said, his voice breaking. "I don't care."

And that was the end of it. As it always was. No one could ever get through to him. No. Not even Harry.

Movement up stairs brought Lupin's mind back to the present.

"I wonder what's going on upstairs," Ron said, changing the subject. "Been up there for a while, eh?"

"Yeah," Remus mumbled. "A while."

* * *

Sirius could barely talk by the time he'd finished his story. This was so crazy. Absolutely insane. What was going to happen to them? How were they going to get through?

Dumbledore looked so grave, Sirius thought he was going to drop dead on the spot. He'd never seen Dumbledore look that way before.

"Is that all?" the Headmaster asked quietly. Sirius nodded.

Dumbledore stood up quickly, looking around wildly. "We need to get to work. Now. Follow me." And he left the room.

Sirius, after a moment's pause, followed. And he couldn't help but remember the look on Dumbledore's face when he'd said those fateful words…

"_Professor…Voldemort's not what we should be worrying about. There's a bigger evil. A bigger force that drives him. That's using him. While we follow the distraction that is Voldemort, this evil is…is…back-dooring us right now. Sneaking in. It WANTS us to take care of Voldemort, so we won't see it coming. It's here, right now. Within our very own._

"_Dumbledore. Voldemort is just a pawn."_

**Whew! Okay then…that's that. Now, this is the turning point I guess because now you all know. It's kinda different from other story lines, but that's what makes it a story, right? ;P ….Well, let me know your thoughts! **

**Luv,**

**Ribelle**


	6. The Meaning of Responsibility

Disclaimer: Ha! It's finally worked! I've finally gone back in time with that bloody time turner and written the books myself before Ms. Rowling could ever have even thought up the idea in her head! Damn…I feel so clever…….(wakes up)…..Well….wasn't that a lovely dream? D

**Chapter Six: The Meaning of Responsibility **

"He's back."

The hooded figure shivered at the words.

"I know, Master."

"You swore to me, Riddle. You swore to me."

The darkness around them seemed to grow blacker and colder than ever. The figure on the throne before Riddle went rigid and he could feel the intense anger bearing down on him.

"I'm sorry, Master."

The figure scoffed. "Sorry? Sorry? Take off that hood and look at me, you fool. Face

me."

Riddle did not hesitate. He knew that would be a deadly thing to do. He lowered his hood and slowly raised his head until he could see two pinpricks of white glowering at him through the shadows.

"I will not be brought down because of your blunder, Half-blood. Find him. Torture him. Bring him to me…I will finish the job myself, since you seem incapable of the task." Riddle winced. The Master always knew how to bruise his pride where it hurt the most.

"Yes, Master."

He could feel his superior's intense disgust.

"You're lucky I don't take the very life from you as you stand so pitifully before my feet. Go. Get the job done. _Done!_ If you fail me again…" The Master paused in a cruel sort of way. "If you fail me again, the Potter boy won't have to worry about any damned prophecy anymore. Keep that in mind, Riddle. Keep that at the very front of your sickle-sized brain!"

Riddle kept his temper in check. He'd be dead, he knew, before he could even show his anger if he so much as breathed wrong.

"Now," the Master continued in his bone chilling tone, "I want you to know that you are the reason that twenty-seven of my faithful servants are dead. It took you long enough to get here…so I was forced to take my anger out on others. I'm sure you understand."

Riddle nodded. He would have done the very same thing.

"I need you. You know that. You are the only way I can achieve both our dreams. I am angry with you, yes. Very angry, indeed. But I cannot afford to lose everything I've been working for because of a little temper tantrum. No, that would not be good. So…I have decided to make a few changes in the deal."

Riddle's eyes narrowed suspiciously. He did not like where this was headed.

"I have three words for you, _Lord_ Voldemort. _You are mine._"

"No!" The word involuntarily left his lips and he quickly choked back the rest of what he wanted to say, lest he not live to see the effect of them.

"I beg your pardon? No? I'm quite sure you are mistaken. _Yes_, Tom. Yes."

Riddle could not believe his ears. His blood bubbled and his slitted nostrils flared but he could do nothing. Nothing at all.

"But…" The Master paused cruelly again. "IF you can prove your value again by bringing him to me successfully and NOT resorting to having one of your mindless little Death Eaters go after him so that you can settle your petty quarrel with that meddling boy…then…"

Riddle waited with bated breath.

"…then…you will be free."

He relaxed, the tension fading. That was much better.

"I'm sure you will try harder now."

"Yes, Master."

"Good." Riddle could feel the Master scrutinizing him closely. "You may think you have a problem, Tom…and I daresay you do. Harry Potter is a lethal enemy. And he is the only one who can bring about your end. But think of the condition I am in. Look who _I_ am up against. The only one who can stop me is alive again, Voldemort, stronger than I think even he knows. And I expect you to fix that. This is your responsibility, Tom. I'm sure you know what the word 'responsibility' means?"

The Master leaned back until his glowing white orbs could no longer be seen. Riddle was dismissed.

As he left the Master's chamber, Riddle felt a feeling he had not had in sometime: fear. Fear of what would happen if he failed again. Fear of the Master. Fear of Dumbledore. Fear of everything…

"Damn you, Harry Potter," he muttered. "Damn the Master. Damn the Order. Damn Bellatrix." He breathed in.

"Damn Sirius Black."

* * *

Buckbeak nudged the side of Harry's face with his beak, but Harry pushed him away.

_Stupid beast,_ he thought miserably. _Why haven't you died off yet?_

Buckbeak leaned back and glared at Harry with eyes that said, _I heard that. You're in MY room, you know. _

"Yeah, well, there's no where else I can get some privacy," Harry said aloud. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes, fighting back the urge to run wildly down the stairs and find his godfather. Just to see him…just to make sure he was okay…Harry hadn't realized how much he'd missed Sirius until he'd seen him in the hall and understood that it really was him. That he was back. It was amazing. Utterly amazing…

Harry's eyes slowly opened. But…Sirius suspected didn't he? Sirius knew something was up…he could see it in his eyes…they gave away his concern. Harry shook his head. He can't know. Not yet. They had to figure all this chaos out first. That was priority. Of course it was. But Harry knew that Sirius would question him. He could hear it now…

"_Harry, are you all right?" "Harry, are you sure nothing's wrong?" "Son, you can't keep it from me, I can tell something's the matter." _

He knew that Sirius wouldn't give up…he cared too much for Harry. He would put him before himself. And that scared Harry.

He leaned forward and unbuttoned the front of his shirt, taking his time, not in a hurry to see what had been done to him. When he finished, he saw a sight that made him flinch every time. A gruesome scar slashed across his stomach, wrapping around his back, and connecting with the front. A scar made by magic. It would never heal completely. Voldemort had made sure of that. And now…now Harry was out of more time than he had ever been. He had to kill Voldemort soon. He had to. Or else…

Harry didn't want to think about it. It scared him horribly and brought tears to his eyes every time. Not because of what he knew what was happening to him. But because he also knew that if he didn't kill Voldemort now, he was never going to get the chance.

Someone knocked on the door.

"What," he said dully.

It creaked open and Hermione's head poked through.

"Hey, Harry. Can I talk to you?"

He sighed. "Yeah, I s'ppose."

She walked in, closing the door behind her. She seemed to be thinking hard about what she wanted to say as she sat down next to Harry on the floor.

"Listen, Harry," she began. Then her eyes caught his scar and she closed them tightly, washed over by a wave of painful memories.

He rushed a hand through his untidy hair. He felt sorry he had let her see it again. She had been there when Voldemort had so graciously given it to him and she had never forgiven herself for not saving him. Not that he blamed her. What could she have done?

She opened her eyes again, blinking them over and over so that the tears would go away and keeping them directed toward the door. "Harry, I just—I wanted to see how you were doing. Everything that's happened tonight…it's incredible, isn't it? I haven't seen him yet…how is he?"

He took a moment to answer. How _was_ Sirius? Sure, he seemed fine on the outside. But what was really going on with him? Harry was sure his godfather had deep secrets he didn't plan on telling him, just as he himself did.

"I think he's gonna be okay," he said quietly. He hoped that was the truth.

Hermione nodded. "It's just that…oh, I don't know. I have this feeling inside me that I can't explain. I need to _know_ something. I want to understand what's going on. But I can barely get my head around all of it. And," she shrugged. "I need someone."

Harry felt his heart sink. She needed someone. Of course she did. And he knew who that someone was.

"I know, Hermione, believe me, I do. Truth is, I need someone, too. I need Sirius. Right now. And I have to say something to you. He's my father. You know that? At first, I felt horrible saying something like that because I felt as though I was disgracing my dad and that I wasn't respecting him. I felt as though I was just replacing him. But I know now that I'm not. My dad would be happy to know that I see Sirius in such a way. I'm sure he would."

She smiled at him. "I _know_ he would."

He smirked at her. "Ron doesn't hate you, like you think."

Her smile faded. "Harry…yes, he does."

"No, he doesn't."

"Wha—I—what? Have you not seen him? He's being as thick in the head as you can get! He's said it himself! He hates me."

Harry chuckled. She looked appalled. "How can you laugh at something like this!"

"I'm not laughing."

"Oh, right."

"Look, Ron will come to understand, alright? I should know. Remember in fourth year? I thought he hated me then, too. All he could do was glare at me, throw me nasty looks, and completely ignore me. I mean, he was being a real git!"

"Bit rich coming from you, don't you think?" she asked, crossing her arms and giving him that know-it-all look. Then her countenance fell and her hands fell to her lap. "And you know full well this is a completely different situation."

He nodded. "Yeah, I know. I just want to see you smile. You haven't done that in ages, you know."

"Sure I have."

"Nooo, I don't think so."

"Yes, I have."

"Not really."

"Harry, would you grow up?"

"Tried. Didn't work too well."

"Well, you'll have to try harder. You do have responsibilities around here, as I'm sure you're aware."

"Really? No, I wasn't, but thanks anyways. However, I did look up the meaning of responsibility yesterday and I'm really quite proud of myself—"

"Oh, shut it."

And Harry was quite pleased to see a genuine smile on Hermione's face for the first time in years.


	7. Firewhiskey

**Disclaimer: I have to tell you again, don't I? I have to let you all know AGAIN that I do not own anything associated with Harry Potter besides this particular story and any other growing plots that might be running around in my head. I have to tell you each and every time. How sad. Well, get it in your heads this time, savvy? Ah, just joshin… Alright, well….onward!**

**Chapter Seven: Firewhiskey **

"I hate chocolate, Fred."

"Oh, come on, George. Since when?"

"Since now. You can't make me eat it."

"Oh, please? Besides, you're not supposed to think about what you're tasting. You're supposed to be impatiently awaiting what happens _after_ you start to digest the little buggers. It's not like this is the first time you've ever tested something as simple as this. It'll be like old times."

"Right, but did it have to be chocolate?"

"Ah, come off it, man. What are you now, Percy's newest pupil in his 'How to Really Appreciate Rules and Regulations' class?"

"Fred,"

"What?"

"I don't like chocolate."

Fred stared at his brother blankly for a moment or two while Remus looked on in amusement. The twins had been so impatient to find out what was going on with Sirius that they had turned their minds to their very successful joke shop and were now discussing Fred's latest invention, _Trouble Truffles_, which George obviously was not going to be the tester for.

"Fine," said Fred, throwing up his hands and leaning back in his chair. "Way to show a little brotherly support, George. Real encouraging."

"Hmph," was all George said.

Remus sighed and rubbed the sides of his head in hopes that his annoyingly persistent headache would subside. No such luck. Clock is ticking. Ticking. Ticking…what could be taking them so long? Whose stomach is growling? Imagining things…tired as hell…water? No, firewhiskey….no, water…

_Great. I'm going mad._

"You all right, mate?" Fred asked, watching Lupin with concern.

"Firewhiskey," Remus muttered dully. The twins looked at each other.

"Er…okay," George said slowly. Then, leaning towards Fred, he whispered, "Scary bloke, at times."

"Ah, don't say that," Fred answered back. "After what's happened today? I mean, look at you! All of a sudden not liking chocolate…_that_ is scary."

"What? Who doesn't like chocolate?" Everyone looked up.

"S-Sirius?"

* * *

Sirius smirked.

Behind the smirk was a deep sense of foreboding. Dumbledore had gone off somewhere. So had Harry. Moody didn't quite trust him. And now…Remus. Sirius wanted to rush over and embrace his good friend…but somehow he thought that wouldn't be the best idea.

"Hullo," he said, wondering how this conversation was going to go.

There was silence for probably a good five or ten minutes and then, "You don't look too good, mate," from George.

Sirius's laugh was hollow. "You don't have to tell me that, Weasley. I see my reflection in your eyes well enough."

Sirius locked eyes with Remus and things went quiet once more.

* * *

"You think they're through talking yet?" Harry asked. No answer. He looked down at Hermione to find her fast asleep, head rested on his shoulder. He sighed and was just thinking about how to get up without waking her when the door opened and Ron walked in.

He stopped as soon as he caught sight of them and Harry felt his best friend's back tense ever so slightly, even from across the room.

"Oh," Ron said quietly. "Hi."

"Hey," Harry replied, hoping things wouldn't get to complicated. Ron's eyes kept flickering rapidly downward toward Hermione, but Harry pretended not to notice.

"Well, I guess I can go," Ron muttered, grasping the doorknob in his hand. "I only came up to…to get some—"

"Privacy?" Harry finished for him. Ron nodded.

"Look, why don't I go," Harry said, watching Ron carefully out of the corner of his eye as he situated himself out from under Hermione. "I'll go and you can stay. Keep an eye on her…"

Ron knew perfectly well who he was talking about.

"Harry, I don't think that's such a good—"

"Idea?" he finished for him again. Ron looked irritated.

"Yes, _idea_. That's awfully annoying, I hope you know." Harry just shrugged.

"You're awfully annoying as well. More annoying than me in any case."

"What's that for?" Ron asked, his ears getting quite pink.

"Well…" Harry said, pretending as though he was thinking something over very carefully. "I suppose the whole 'I hate Hermione' act is getting a bit old. I mean, three years of it. Makes me want to kill something at times, honestly."

Ron's ears were going pinker still.

"Listen, Ron," Harry continued, his tone growing more serious. "I don't care what issues you have. Today is not the day. Now, please….take her, would you? I have to see how Sirius is doing." His mind seemed to jerk back to life rapidly as he said his godfather's name. He'd have to get used to it.

Ron hesitated, still red in the face. But he walked over and, with more care than Harry would've thought possible after everything that had happened between them, lifted Hermione off of the floor and off of Harry.

"Thank you," Harry said, not expecting it to have been that easy.

"Yeah," Ron muttered, looking at Hermione in his arms, not with distaste, but as though he wasn't quite sure what to do with her.

"Just stay in here with her," Harry answered for him. "Or take her to my bedroom. Doesn't matter much."

"Mmm," Ron grunted, still looking at Hermione. Then he turned and walked out the door, apparently on his way to lay Hermione down.

Buttoning up his shirt, Harry stood up. He needed to find Sirius. He didn't care whether or not Dumbledore was through questioning him. They'd had long enough.

Harry walked out of Buckbeak's room and down the stairs, glancing into any open door he passed and listening intently to any noises for the sound of Sirius's voice. He heard and saw several other people, people he hadn't even known were in the house. Harry realized just how much he hadn't been paying any attention to anything going on the house besides Sirius and himself.

"Psst. Harry," said a voice to his right. Harry turned and saw Ginny Weasley, peering at him from her bedroom doorway, fiery red curls framing her freckled face. He leaned forward to hear what she had to say and was surprised to see barely visible tear streaks lining her face.

"Harry," she said again, clutching the door frame for support.

"What, Ginny? What is it?"

At that, she began to tremble and Harry noticed she was hiding something tightly in her right hand, trying very hard not to let it escape.

"Harry…you won't believe…it's…it's…"

"It's what?" he asked, shaking his head.

"It's…him,"

And adjusting her grip on the squirming thing in her hand, Ginny held up something gray, and filthy, and absolutely disgusting and unwanted. She held up a rat.

A rat with a missing toe, no less.

* * *

"I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts," Sirius heard Lupin muttering under his breath, their eyes still locked. "There they are standing in a row…."

And Sirius became disturbingly aware that something was indeed wrong with his best friend.

"Remus," Sirius said tentatively, trying not to sound too worried. "You know I hate that song."

At this, Remus scoffed and rolled his eyes, as though Sirius had said something entirely idiotic. "No, you old bat. I told you a thousand times…firewhiskey. Fi-re-whis-key. Understand? No water. Water, no. None at all. Coconuts, please. Yes, yes, in Liverpool. Good ol' chap." Lupin's eyes had begun wandering the room, taking in everything from the ceiling, to the wallpaper, to the china cabinet…and avoiding Sirius.

"Mental," Fred said, who had just noticed Lupin's continuing odd behavior because he hadn't been able to take his eyes off of Sirius. "Absolutely mad. Don't know what he's gone and—" But his eyes widened and Sirius suddenly felt as though something was extremely familiar about what was going on.

"He's…" Fred started, looking frightened and rushed.

"Bloody hell," George said, and he rushed up and out of the room, calling for help as he ran.

Sirius racked his brain, trying to understand what was going on. He'd seen this before. Somewhere…at sometime…

Footsteps rumbled above Sirius, Fred, and Remus and it began to click in his head. Charlie, Tonks, Mrs. Weasley, and George came bursting into the room and stopped, staring at Lupin. Sirius turned his eyes back to his friend and remembered what he had forgotten.

* * *

It's a strange feeling, transforming into something you're not meant to be. But I suppose you become used to it after a while. Remus Lupin certainly had to adapt. Being bitten by the werewolf that turned him into what he was was a memory he hated and had tried many times to rid himself of with various spells and even curses. But for some reason, he couldn't get it to go away. Just like, for some reason, the potion he'd taken for so long wasn't working. Or how, for some reason, Sirius was alive again. He didn't understand. And he never would.

Pain. Lots of it. That's the only thing he could think of to describe what it felt like. It was an excruciating experience and one he was surprised he lived through each and every time.

Trapping him.

Enclosing him.

Being its prisoner…

But there was something different about it this time. Something…better?

Ah, yes. This time, he wasn't chained. This time, there was nothing between him and the rest of the world.

This time…he was free.

**Okay, well….sorry for the wait. Busy schedule. Hope you like the story!**

**Ribelle**


	8. Evolving

Disclaimer: Come on…say it with me… "Ribelle doesn't own Harry Potter"…very good… ;)

**Thanks for all the reviews, folks…and I'm soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo unbelievably sorry for the long wait……I've had a huge amount of stressful things going on….but it's great fun to read what you all think…I'm glad you think it's interesting and different….that's what I'm aiming for! Anyways, read on!**

**Ribelle**

**Chapter Eight: Evolving **

"What do we do?" George muttered breathlessly. "He'll be long gone in the head by now."

No one said anything, too scared to move. No matter how many times he'd seen it in his life, Sirius would never get used to watching Remus transform. But this time…this time, it was much, much worse. Remus had nothing to keep him sane, no potion to help him focus and understand. Nothing. His eyes, which stayed the same, werewolf or man, had never had such a crazed gleam in them and Sirius had never wanted so badly to just turn and run.

"We can't run," said Charlie, holding his wand steady. "We'd never make it out the door. We'll have to—"

But they never heard what they'd have to do. Lupin rushed at Charlie, a vicious, merciless hunger emanating from his wolf's body. Fortunately, Charlie's reflexes were quick and he was able to get out some sort of shielding spell before Remus hit him. But he wasn't able to hold it for long before it cracked and Lupin was able to get through.

"Charlie!" Fred yelled, running for his brother as fast as he could. But Remus was too quick and before they knew it, the werewolf was bolting out the door and down the hallway, dragging Charlie by the ankle.

They all rushed after the two figures, who moved so quickly through the darkened house that it was like chasing after shadows or ghosts. Molly Weasley was in the lead.

"Stay here, Mum," George panted, trying to push her back down the hallway. "We'll get Charlie."

"Oh, don't even think about it," she growled, increasing her speed, and Sirius was surprised at how fast he had to go to keep up with her. "That is my son over there! Oooh, Remus is going to get it this time. I swear! I remember the last time—"

"Faster!" Sirius yelled, and pushed ahead of the pack. They were both already headed for the front door. Charlie was trying hard to turn and shoot a stunning spell at his attacker, but he couldn't see well enough to aim properly.

"A bit of help, if you don't mind!" they heard him yell before he was pulled through the door and out of sight.

"Oh, Merlin, what if he's seen?" Tonks asked, rushing to catch up with Sirius who was on his way out of the house. Wondering vaguely how everyone didn't seem to be as worried as they should be, he bolted out the door after them.

Lupin had stopped. His jaw still firmly clamped around Charlie's ankle, he bared his teeth and glared at his pursuers. And then, his face changed. As did the rest of his body. Until everything was back to normal and Charlie found his foot in the mouth of the man Remus Lupin instead of an out of control werewolf. Lupin quickly dropped Charlie's leg and took a step back, obviously startled. Mrs. Weasley sighed and made her way over to the pair.

"Come on, Remus. I'm so sorry, but we should've done this sooner." Taking him by the hand, she led him back into the house. Sirius stood there for a moment. That wasn't supposed to happen. Werewolves didn't just change back into their normal state after a few minutes. He turned to express this to the twins and Tonks, but they were already following Mrs. Weasley, shaking their heads with exasperation and talking quietly to one another.

* * *

"Ginny!" Harry cried, grabbing the squirming rat out of her grasp. It wriggled and writhed but Harry held it firmly. "Watch out Ginny, I'll grab him!" Ginny stepped backward as the rat fell from her hands but Harry caught it quickly. He ran down the stairs, skipping at least four at a time, and skidded to a stop outside the kitchen door. As he rushed in, he saw everyone, including Sirius, surrounding a distraught looking Lupin.

"He's here!" he yelled, and everyone turned around in surprise. He held the rat up by the tail as it still struggled to free itself. Sirius immediately came forward and, pointing his wand at the creature, muttered something under his breath. Bluish-white light exploded from the end of his wand and the rat froze for a split second. Harry remembered this. In a moment's time, he recalled how, in his third year, Remus and Sirius had forced Peter Pettigrew to show himself with this spell. But Peter had gotten away. And now, here he was, over nine years later, in the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, again betraying those who had once trusted him?

The rat did not stay frozen. In fact, it did not do anything at all. It simply tried to escape once again. Sirius uttered the spell again. Nothing. He gave a confused look at Harry and then tried again. Not a thing.

"But….but…" Harry stuttered, inspecting the rat closer. "There's no toe. And it looks exactly the same….it has to be him…."

"Sorry, Harry," Lupin whispered, sounding exhausted, "Everyone's wrong now and again." Harry could only stand there. Finally, he let the rat fall from his hand to the ground, where it scurried off through the house, eager to get away from his torturers. He heard Ginny enter the kitchen behind him, but didn't turn around. He felt rather depressed. But at the same time….there was Sirius.

Sirius found it uncomfortable that everyone was staring at him as though he were from another world. This, in fact, was the case in some ways. But he needed to break the silence, before it got too awkward for him to handle.

"Yeah, Harry," he added to Lupin's statement. "Rats lose appendages all the time. Nothing funny about it." The silence continued. _Geez_, he thought with exasperation, _yes, I'm alive, can we get over it and do what needs to be done?_ "Listen, all of you," he said suddenly louder, causing them all to start. "I've talked to Dumbledore. Things have gone horribly wrong. Things have changed. They're not what we thought they were. We have to get to work immediately. I believe Dumbledore's gone to Hogwarts to sort some things out, so we're going to need as much security as possible." No one moved at all, still staring blankly at him. He sighed and ran a finger through his grubby hair. "Okay, everyone," he said, starting over. "How about we start by just…cleaning up?" This seemed to be something that most everyone in the kitchen understood, and slowly everyone filed out, heading for the hallway where the most damage had been done by Lupin's sudden transformation. Ignoring the furtive glances still cast his way as people left the room, Sirius noticed Harry, still standing by the doorway and looking slightly disappointed.

"Go on, Harry," Lupin said quietly. "I must speak with Sirius for a moment." Harry looked up and, after a second's hesitation, turned to head out the door where Ginny stood waiting for him. After they had gone, Sirius turned to Remus.

"What was that all about?" he wondered, trying to understand what had happened. The whispers had told him many things. But nothing about spastic werewolf transformations that end after five minutes, so far as he could recall.

Lupin sighed. "Well, Sirius. Sit down and I'll tell you." Sirius, glancing over his shoulder at where their companions had departed, pulled up a chair and took a seat.

* * *

"Alright now, Sirius, I'm going to ask you not to interrupt. I'd rather finish as soon as possible, so listen carefully.

"We have many theories about…well, about what I've become. Now, don't give me that look. No matter how much we try to deny it, I am turning into something else. I'm still a werewolf. But only just. You know as well as I that the potion stopped working a long time ago. And strong magic like that doesn't just…stop. Things have changed, Sirius. Too many things. I look in your eyes and I…I don't know…you're different somehow. I can see that you know things now. It shows quite clearly. Wherever you've been these last seven years has obviously had some affect on you. And for some reason…I can't shake the feeling that, even though you might not know exactly how…you know why I am turning into…well…why I'm changing.

"I wish there was an easier way to say this. I mean, look at me. Straining to find the right words…still in shock over…you. Honestly, Sirius. I'm just waiting to wake up! How many times have dreamt that you'd come back? Too many to count. It's strange but…I get the feeling that…you're supposed to help me. Like, it's your…your job. Your mission. Don't ask me how I know this. I don't want you to feel as though I'm placing myself as a burden upon you. But this is what I feel.

"Anyways…we don't know exactly what's going on, but…It's like I'm…I'm…evolving. I don't know how else to put it. I'm becoming something uncontrollable. Something that…that…ah, damn. I don't know what to say. All I know is that I need help, and fast. Before I lose myself completely. Sirius…don't let me lose myself. Help me…"

* * *

Sirius sat back, a little unsure of how to take in what he'd just been told. He looked Remus over, taking in everything from the shabbiness of his robes to the thick, indestructible chains that bound him to his chair and the chair to the floor, conjured up by Molly Weasley. He felt terribly sorry that his dearest friend had to go through this torture. He couldn't imagine what it would be like and didn't want to. But all this business about…evolving, as Remus had put it. There was something nagging at the back of Sirius's mind, something that had to do with Lupin's change. It was like he should be remembering something when he couldn't. It was right there…so close…

"Ahem."

Sirius turned around and Lupin tore his eyes away from his intent study of his friend's face. Alastor Moody stood there, crazy eye swiveling, leaving nothing unlooked.

"I'm afraid we have a slight problem, boys." At Sirius's inquiring look, he continued, "Remember that rat Potter brought in? Yeah. Well…it has friends."

**Thank you so much for waiting as patiently as you have. Or as patiently as I hope you have. This one was supposed to be longer but things have…well….things have happened. guilty shrug…..I'll try and update sooner, my friends….Cheers!**

**Ribelle**


	9. Not a chapter But hello again

Hello readers.

This is really strange. I found this story again after almost 6 years and I can't believe it's been that long. I am now 21 years old and am married! This is so funny to read back on and remember the place I was at in my life when I was writing this. I wasn't planning on saying anything, but I saw some reviews as recent as last month which made me feel extremely guilty for not at least updating and letting you all know why I couldn't continue with the story. Hopefully I didn't upset anyone too much. I just had a lot of things going on that were much more important than a fan fiction. Anyways, I don't know if or when I will pick this story up again, but I'm curious myself to find out what will happen so perhaps I will. Thank you all so much for not flaming me for being a lame author to you guys!

Sincerely,

Brianna (aka Ribelle)


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